Her Things
by phaedraphelan
Summary: Sherlock finds a box of Watson's clothing and is forced to serious moments of reflection.


**Her Things**

**By phaedraphelan**

Summary: Sherlock reflects on his feelings for Watson upon discovery of a box of her clothes left at the brownstone.

Disclaimer: Elementary is the artistic property of CBS and no infringement is intended.

**Sherlock had been back in New York for just a few days and was just getting things set up at the brownstone again, and thankful that Mrs. Hudson had been attentive to seeing that the utilities were cared for and any maintenance issues attended to. Sherlock quickly removed the dust covers from the furniture and ensconced himself in his former bedroom downstairs and directed his protégée Kitty to the upstairs bedroom that Watson had used.**

**It was Kitty who found the box of clothing in the back of the closet of her room and brought it downstairs to Sherlock's room and left it there in front of his bedroom door. When Sherlock saw the box, he carried it into his bedroom, sat down on his bed and opened it.**

**As soon as he opened the box and inhaled the fragrance that was Watson, Sherlock's heart skipped a beat. He picked up a pale blue sweater in his hand and buried his face in the soft garment. All of his senses were assaulted as he pulled several of Watson's garments, mostly casual tops and bottoms from the box.**

**Sherlock was overwhelmed with memories of Joan. All the garments carried the signature fragrance of her perfume, Mitsouko by Guerlain, but that was mingled with her personal scent, the scent that he knew simply as Joan.**

**"Joan . . . Joan," he gasped softly, lying across his bed and burying his head in his pillow and gripping his belly as his passion for her washed over him and through him just like the scent of her in the most intense sexual reaction in his flesh as all the while he groaned, "I need you, Joan."**

**Sherlock remembered the first time he had stepped into Joan's closet. Prior to meeting Joan, Sherlock had never shared living space permanently with a woman and he found that he was affected deeply by his close proximity to her. Sherlock found that her clothes represented an especially intimate way to connect with her, and after Joan realized that he did not follow this with overt sexual advances, she never resisted his interest in her clothes. He always seemed to relish picking out her wardrobe for the day . . . at first just her outerwear, but then later he discovered the small chest of drawers in her closet which contained a well-organized selection of panties, bras, teddies and other intimate wear in various styles and colors, and he began to select her undergarments as well. Joan knew that there was a sensuality underlying it all but she never forbade him to enter her closet.**

**Most of the time he exercised enough control so that he seemed to barely look at her when she was dressed, but every once in a while she wore something he found so stunning that he would stare at her with his mouth hanging open and with such dilated pupils that her effect upon him was not even a question.**

**Now that Joan found herself sleeping over at the brownstone again on occasion she was mildly surprised when Sherlock made available to her the box of her own clothing that she had left there months earlier. Then came that night during the Del Bruner case when she came by the brownstone in that mind blowing black gown which, when she dropped her cape, revealed her back bare to her waist.**

**Sherlock had gasped, unable to continue speaking and found himself drawn to her as by an invisible magnet.**

**"My God, Joan! My God!"**

**Sherlock had come behind her, touched her, run just the tip of his index finger up and down her spine, then kissed her back and her neck and lovely shoulders.**

**"Sherlock . . . What do you want, Sherlock?" she whispered, the tone of her response telling Sherlock that she had worn that gown for him.**

**"I want you, Joan."**

**They did not get beyond the sofa that night. Without a further word he had pushed the dress down and off and Joan had turned to face him and released him from his own trousers, pushed him down onto the sofa, straddled his lap, and they had come together just like that. **

**Then there was the evening she went to dinner with Andrew and his father. She had been so frustrated at the situation with Andrew when things went just as Sherlock had predicted and then when she had to admit to him that he was absolutely right, she punched him hard on his biceps. It was the first time she had felt free to hit him this way but it seemed natural and affectionate and even a bit playful as things seemed to be developing between them.**

**"I would have preferred that hug you offered me a few weeks ago," Sherlock said, smiling and rubbing his arm, "although I sense the tension in you as a result of the evening you had to endure. Such a shame to waste such a lovely frock on an event that had such an unfulfilling conclusion."**

**Joan turned to him and saw a look of need that she had often seen ****in his blue green gaze these days.**

**"Sherlock?"**

**"I'm lonely, Watson. I don't enjoy living alone any longer I fear. I'm like the bloke singing that song that is so popular these days. I want you to 'stay with me.' Would you deign to stay tonight?"**

**"I will stay tonight. I don't want to be anywhere but here right now."**

**Sherlock took Joan's hand and kissed it and held it to his stubbled cheek before drawing her close to him. They were both trembling with need and they knew what was going to happen as Sherlock led her upstairs to the room that was formerly hers.**

**"Stay with me, Sherlock," Joan said softly at the door of the bedroom, welcoming him, "and help me undress."**

**Sherlock turned her back to him and began to unzip her dress, kissing her on her neck and then lifting her long black hair so he could kiss her bare shoulders, pushing the black lace creation down off her body till she stood clad only in her black lace panties and bra.**

**"Will you please help me with my clothes, Joan?"**

**Joan unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it and his vest off his shoulders, leaning in to kiss his well-defined pectoral muscles as the garments fell to the floor. Then she loosened his belt and trousers and let her warm hands slip inside the waistband reaching down to embrace and squeeze his muscular hips before finally pushing the trousers down and away.**

**When they lay down together, there were words that each of them wanted to say, but they couldn't say them. They could only kiss passionately, frantically, groaning their mutual need, rubbing and touching as they found satisfaction in the sheer taste and scent of each other. It was perfection between them as they came together and began to rock in intercourse. That is when they both began to cry out in ecstasy, each other's names bursting from their lips, because they could not hold the words back any longer.**

**"Sherlock!" Joan wailed, unable to hold back her cries as the ecstasy seized her. **

**"Joan, luv! Luv! Dear God, Joan!" Sherlock fairly shouted when the moment of his release came. Then he snorted and growled as throes of rapture took him.**

**Afterward they lay quietly side by side, unable to speak about what had just happened to them till finally they fell asleep.**

**The next morning along with her breakfast tray he brought a beautiful charcoal gray wool knit dress to her bed for her to wear. There was also a box containing a matching satin bra and panties and black tights and boots as well. There was no mention of what had transpired the night before.**

**"Thank you, Sherlock. Couture! This is beautiful."**

**"As is the case with you, my dearest Watson. As is always the case with you."**

**That night Sherlock took that blue sweater of Joan's from under his pillow and put it into the box with the other articles of her clothing in his closet, but not before he lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply.**


End file.
